


That’s the Interview?

by sheankelor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Secret Snarry Swap 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21623977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheankelor/pseuds/sheankelor
Summary: Hogwarts has three positions open and Harry is ready for a change. The only thing is, he has to get through the interview without letting Headmaster Snape know about his fantasies starring him.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 48
Kudos: 398
Collections: Secret Snarry Swap19





	That’s the Interview?

**Author's Note:**

> Many many thanks to my wonderful beta who just heard I was writing this and volunteered to look over it. 
> 
> Prompt No. 7 from williamsnickers: He never really thought much about what he would say to Snape when he saw him, but now Harry is standing in front of him and he knows he has to say something. Anything to keep him around.

Harry stood outside Hogwarts' massive gates, waiting on Hagrid or whoever was the current Keeper of the Keys to let him in. He glanced down at the formal letter he was holding just in case it wasn't Hagrid, but someone who would insist on written permission. Headmaster Snape had requested him for an interview and Harry wasn't sure which position it was for. 

'I wonder how many applicants can say that?' Rolling his eyes at himself, he wished for whoever was to let him in to hurry. Butterflies were erupting inside his stomach and he just wanted this over with. 

Snape was going to be Snape and that was the problem. Which Snape was he going to be today?

The Snape of his childhood was tall and menacing, looming over him with greasy hair and black robes. He would belittle Harry and dismiss his accomplishments as just dumb luck – with the emphasis on dumb. He would ignore Harry's ability to plan, to think and learn.

The Snape of his late teens was bitter and vindictive, ripping through him with sharp looks and sharper words. He would tear apart Harry's self-esteem, pick at anything and everything in a parody of an attempt to make him stronger; would stare into his soul and demand that he not give into his nature, that he learn to be secretive, to see into and understand the layers of shadows that made the world. 

The Snape of his early twenties was wary and cautious, remaining a discreet distance at all times. He would be careful of his phrasing – not quite apologizing nor as caustic as before. He would watch Harry as carefully as a temperamental potion that Neville was brewing, and would judge his actions accordingly. 

The Snape of his mid-twenties was… well, an unknown entity. The man had hid himself behind Hogwarts' walls and sank deeply into the role of Headmaster. Unlike Dumbledore, Snape held no other roles and thus, had no reason to come to the Ministry, to interact with the DMLE, or … to see former students. 

And that was the crux of the matter. 

Harry missed seeing Snape. He didn't understand why. He didn't miss Hagrid, McGonagall, Flitwick, or any other professor as much. He didn't miss any of the students he went to school with as much – even the dead ones were just a gentle ache in his chest now compared to this strange clawing, _needy_ desire to see Snape. 

And there lay the problem.

_'Because he would never be the Snape of my dreams. I don't even know why my brain dreams of him that way. No right-minded Gryffindor would ever fantasise about the feel of those long thin fingers brushing over their face and spearing through their hair. They wouldn’t dream of those fingertips grazing their lips, trailing down their throat and tweaking their nipples, trailing even lower and cupping their balls. They wouldn't imagine those thin lips ghosting up the sides of their cock, or opening wide to take it all in.'_

Breaking out of the images – very graphic images – of all that happening, Harry swallowed, giving an almost violent shiver as he tried to get his body back under control. _'There is absolutely no way I could ever – everything I know about Snape indicates that he's straight or possibly even asexual.'_

The loud barking of a dog, thankfully, broke Harry's train of thought. He peered through the gates, trying to see if it was Violet – Hagrid's newest pup. In seconds, she – Fang's daughter – burst into sight, rushing towards him, a sight that would cause many to take a step back if not turn and run off. Her paws landed against the gate at his chest height with enough force to rattle it. 

Chuckling, Harry leant as close as he could to the head with the tongue hanging out. "I'm happy to see you too. You wouldn't happen to be able to open these gates, would you?"

Violet barked, scrabbling at the gate with her paws as she tried to get to Harry. 

"The Professor said we had applicants showin' but he didn' say it was yeh, Harry." 

Harry straightened and smiled at Hagrid and the small grey cat stretched across his left shoulder. The genuine welcome in the half-giant’s face made him feel much better. The man shooed Violet off the gate as he unlocked it and swung it open. The cat remained perfectly balanced, its dark eyes watching Harry instead of the dog as Harry would have thought. 

"C'mon in," Hagrid waved Harry through the gate with almost the same motion as he moved Violet – the love and acceptance was completely evident. 

Violet bounded up to Harry, luckily not jumping on him, once he was through. "Hi, Violet." He rubbed between her ears before following Hagrid. "Who's the cat?"

It washed a paw with its tongue, ignoring Harry at the moment, while Hagrid shrugged with his other shoulder. "He doesn' like his name bandied about, Harry. I'm takin' him up to the castle with you."

Harry chuckled. "Picky fellow, eh?"

"Yeah, yeh could say that." Hargrid grinned at him, "The thestrals are out huntin', so we're walkin', yeh don' mind, do you, Harry?"

Taking a deep breath, Harry felt a tight, constricted section in his chest loosen and shook his head. 

"No, I think a walk will be perfect. We should be at the castle on time. It wouldn't do to keep the Professor waiting."

Hagrid chuckled, "No, it wouldn'." Dark eyes glanced over at him, "So, what position are yeh here fer? I can see Defence – yeh being an Auror, but Muggle Studies an' Flight Instructor are open too an' yeh'd fit all of 'em."

Harry laughed as he tucked his letter back inside his robes. "I don't know, Hagrid – I applied for all of them, but Headmaster Snape didn't say which one I was interviewing for."

"All?" Surprise laced the word, but it quickly turned to amusement, "Only yeh, Harry, on'y yeh."

They walked on a bit more in silence, Harry soaking in the feeling of being back on Hogwarts grounds. There was just something here he'd missed and it wasn't just Snape. 

"Why come back at all, Harry?" Hagrid asked softly as he watched Violet bounding ahead. "Hogwarts holds some bad memories fer yeh."

The cat watched him closely, its ears peaked forwards as if to catch his every word. 

"Because it holds good ones as well. Good friends..." Harry took another breath of the peace and security that Hogwarts never quite lost even after the battle that raged across her grounds. "It's …." 

He paused trying to find a way to articulate the feeling, his feet slowing with his thoughts. 

"It's like when you fly away but still feel the need to return home. Kind of like turtles returning to the same beach to lay their eggs… Hogwarts feels like home to me. I mean, I've enjoyed flying out of here – the city, the Ministry, the world – and some people, they thrive out there. They find what it is they're seeking. But, I didn't."

He glanced up into two understanding faces and smiled. He hadn't expected the cat to understand, but it seemed to. 

"Hogwarts makes me feel peaceful right here," he tapped his chest over his heart, "and that is something I want."

Hagrid stopped, studying Harry and then the grounds around them. "Then, we've gotta make sure yeh get it," he looked back at Harry, "So, why not Defence?"

The cat adjusted his weight, almost standing to look down at Harry.

With a wry twist of his lips, Harry started walking again, "Because I've been training Aurors for the last couple of years. I don't want to be too hard on Hogwarts' students, but I've seen what's been coming into the corps."

"So, yeh've had some experience teachin' at least," Hagrid grinned. The cat flicked his tail before curling it around its feet and settling back down as Hagrid followed Harry. 

Harry nodded, "I knew I had to. No offence Hagrid, but your first year was horrible. I mean, you knew the material, but ..."

"I know, Harry, I know." Hagrid dropped a hand on Harry's shoulder, being careful not to knock him over, "First year is the worst, and second isn't that much better. Even if yeh've trained Aurors it don' mean yeh're going to be great at teachin' classes."

"I know, Hagrid, I know," Harry consciously mimicked Hagrid's tone and phrase, teasing a chuckle from the latter. "But it was better than nothing." When Hagrid agreed, he continued. "That's why I picked Flight Instructor. I'm used to watching people in potentially dangerous situations and having to react to them, and it'll give me a chance to get my bearings in a class setting with this age group."

Hagrid smiled, "That’s a good plan! But why Muggle Studies – I figured after yer relatives, yeh'd want less to do with 'em."

Harry shrugged, "Dudley, my cousin, isn't so bad now. It's because I know what Muggles are like – what their world is like – that I want to teach it to others. You can get around just fine in the Muggle world, size aside, but most of the Wizarding World can't. It's one of the things I trained my Aurors to be able to do."

"Well, then, Harry, I see yer problem – yeh've too many options."

Laughing, Harry nodded, "So, I don't know which one Snape wants me for."

_'Bad phrase, Harry, very bad phrase. I want him to want me in a totally different way.’_

Again, those erotic images surged up inside his mind, Snape kissing him, tongue teasing his mouth with short strokes alternating with deep ones, pushing him to sit on his desk, and then pulling up a chair to examine Harry's cock. Stroking its length through his trousers, inhaling deeply as if he could catch Harry's scent through the material, unbuttoning his trousers and discovering with a pleased hiss that Harry forgot his pants this morning, taking his cock out to see it grown long and hard in his palm. Scenting him again, that long nose pressed close to his flesh, and tasting him, a fingertip sliding through the precome leaking out of the tip and licking it.

Harry finally got a hold of his imagination – grabbing and shoving it into the deepest corner of his mind. There was no way he was going to be able to look Snape in the eye during this interview and that was going to be bad. Harry figured if he got the position then it wouldn't matter as much, but the interview … _'I know I put pants on this morning, at least. Clean ones.'_

"It doesn' matter Harry, yeh got a reason fer all three." The cat snorted as if disagreeing with him.

Harry hoped Hagrid was right because he had no idea how to explain it all to Snape. 

The rest of the walk was spent admiring the well-kept grounds as he prayed to Merlin that he could keep his carnal thoughts hidden during his interview. 

The cat used Hagrid's arm as a path to the ground as the half-giant nodded towards the main doors of the castle, "The doors are open, and there's no password at the gargoyle. Yeh know the way from here. Good luck, Harry."

Hagrid waved as he walked away, calling Violet to come with him. 

Harry watched him go before starting on his journey to his fate. His feet remembered the familiar corridors while his brain forgot the words he had planned to say. Instead, he spent the entire trip alternating between suppressing those fantasies – which grew increasingly erotic – and trying to keep his body from reacting to them, his palms growing damp.

"Enter."

Glancing to his right, Harry noticed his arm lowering and his hand balled up in a loose fist. There was even the lingering feeling of the rap against the wooden door, but he didn't recall stepping onto the revolving staircase or even reaching the top. Obeying Snape, he opened the door and walked in with his insides a tangled mess of fear, anticipation, courage, and competence. It was the last one that he attempted to project. 

The large room was both familiar and not. The small tables were still scattered here and there, but their surfaces were devoid of the little puffing and whirring instruments Dumbledore collected. Instead, there were a few books and tiny, Muggle-looking trinkets. A cheerful blaze was in the fireplace, but no perch before it, nor the brilliant crimson feathers of Fawkes. The portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses still hung on the walls, but they were empty at the moment.

For a moment, the emotions in Harry quietened and he smiled at the Headmaster sitting behind the enormous desk, shuffling parchments into different stacks and finally selecting one to rest before him. It gave Harry ample opportunity to study the changes in his appearance. 

Snape had improved with peace. His skin had a subtle warmth to it even if it was still almost deathly pale. Harry couldn't tell if his hair was still shoulder length as it was pulled back, but the style showed that the hollows beneath those cheekbones were gone. No one would dare say the man had any spare flesh, but he wasn't a skeleton either. 

Snape lifted his head, resting a non-judgemental bland look on Harry. 

And that was all it took. Every single word and persuasion Harry had planned to say fled his mind in a rush, and those dratted images flooded in to fill the vacuum.

He very nearly squeaked. At least he didn't fidget. 

"Welcome, Mr Potter. You are right on time." Snape gestured towards a chair against the wall with his wand, causing it to float to a position a few feet away the desk. "Have a seat."

Grasping every ounce of professionalism drilled into him by Kingsley, Harry obeyed, moving like a marionette controlled by a child. Oh, what would he not give to move with fluid grace like Snape! 

"Thank you, Professor."

A cool smile curled the edges of Snape's lips, embellishing Harry's dreams and making him wish he'd snarl and glare instead. Something, anything besides this lack of emotion. 

He knew that no matter if it was his dreams or past, Snape had emotions.

"You’ve applied for three positions at this school," Snape scanned the parchment he'd selected earlier. "Just how do you plan to fill all three?"

The hint of a snap in that voice – like black, black silk – yanked Harry back from contemplating the length of the man's eyelashes as he looked down, only to make Harry wish he could wrap himself in that voice. "I - I wasn't. I figured you'd use me where you thought I fit best." 

_'No, don't think too hard – too much on what you just said. There is no other way for it to be taken.'_

Something flashed across Snape's face, but it was so fast, Harry couldn't interpret it. 

Then Snape leant back in his chair, his arms draped on the arm rests, velvet robes falling apart to reveal he was only in his shirtsleeves, and raised an eyebrow, "So, basically, you don't know what you want."

"I," Harry stopped, completely distracted by Snape sitting in the most open fashion he'd ever seen the closed-off man. His arms weren't across his chest, acting as a barrier. He wasn't curled into himself in an attempt to keep the world out. 

"You?" Snape prompted.

Black eyes swept over him from head to toe and Harry could swear he _felt_ it on his skin, through his robes. His thoughts were scattering, flying, changing directions, parts of his anatomy tingling, begging to be touched. He didn't know if he shifted in the chair, but he clenched his teeth against a moan and yanked his mind back to the present. He glared at the inkwell on the desk. 

"I knew you'd have other applicants for the positions, so I wanted you to have the opportunity to accept the best fit for each one. I know I'm at least slightly qualified for all three and am willing to take up any of them and give them my best." Harry was proud that his words came out without either a snap or a moan. This interview was the best chance he had to live where he wanted, near the one he wanted, and he couldn't mess it up. 

Snape leant forwards, shifting the inkwell slightly, drawing Harry's gaze back to him, "That's very thoughtful of you. By your application, I can see your… qualifications."

Harry could swear those words – cool and collected as they were – were not referring to his application. 'My mind is playing tricks on me. I'm hearing what I want to hear.’ He jerked his attention away from the long fingers tapping the edge of his application and ended up focusing on the front of the desk. He'd never really noticed the intricate carving in the modesty board before.

Legs moved between him and the board, making him jerk backwards. Long, black clad legs that he could all too easily imagine wrapped around him, or trapped between his own. 

"Mr Potter, if you have this much trouble even looking at me, are you really sure you wish to work here?"

The tone wasn't bland, wasn't blank. It was concerned with a warm thread of invitation woven deep inside it. Harry tried to just look directly at Snape's face, but he couldn't control the long, leisurely route his eyes took, travelling up the man's body as his mind deliriously undressed it inch by inch. 

When he finally made it to Snape's eyes, he was sure his desires, his dreams, were completely visible. "I want to be here. I'll be fine, I'm sure."

His voice was mostly steady, and he caught the slight widening of Snape's eyes and the flaring of his nostrils. He had to save this. He had to say something, anything, to have a reason to stay here – to be where Snape was. _'Courage, Harry. Just say it, just let it be known. If I own up to it, then I can own how it's presented.'_

He stood up and took a step forward, keeping enough space between them so the man wouldn't feel threatened, but enough to show he wasn't intimidated or scared. "I'm a homosexual – gay – and I find you attractive. If this bothers you, sir, I understand, but know I won't do anything untoward. I'm sure, given time, I can learn to control my reactions enough to look at you. So, please, Snape, give me a chance."

Those black eyes had widened bit by bit and the knuckles gripping the edge of the desk were whitening. Harry took a small step back, hoping to calm the man. Instead, he spotted a flash of disappointment before Snape's professional mask was once again firmly in place. 

"I've had an excellent applicant for the Defence position, one that I think would help both them and the school, but I've no one who's applied for the Muggle Studies that I thought would do even a halfway decent job. If needs be, you can double as the Flight Instructor if no one suitable applies before the beginning of the school year." 

Snape moved back to the other side of the desk, his movements not as fluid as before, opening a drawer and pulling a series of documents from it.

Then those black eyes were looking back at him. "Your seat, Mr Potter."

Harry dared to breathe again. Snape hadn't fainted from shock, hadn't thrown him out, hadn't hexed him where he stood.

"Harry, please, if you think it'd be appropriate."

Snape inclined his head, "You may call me Severus." He waited just a moment before continuing, "This attraction? Is it strong enough that you would consider pursuing a relationship?"

Harry felt his heart stop as once again, words flew from his mind and every dream he had ever had that starred Severus – x-rated to g-rated – raced through, complete with colour and sound.

"There's a chance?" he squeaked out, not caring right now, but knowing he'd berate himself about it later.

Snape inclined his head again, warmth filling those cool eyes.

"I am willing to test the waters with you, but for us to do so, there are additional documents that need to be completed. The Board will have to be notified and you will be assigned a different evaluator picked by the Board." 

Black eyes once again moved over him, but this time Harry basked in the heated look and didn't much care when his body reacted. He did sit down when his knees felt a bit weak.

"If the attraction is not enough to warrant such actions, then we shall continue with your plan," Snape continued, his face carefully blank.

Harry shook his head, sweaty hands clenched in his lap. "No, I would like to … test the waters. I… if you're free tonight, we could have dinner? I need to stop by the Ministry to turn in my notice and there's a nice curry place near it. If you’re willing?"

The last part was uttered in a rush; Harry still not completely sure of his luck. 

Then Severus smiled – a rare, warm one that crinkled the outer corners of his eyes and made Harry clench his thigh muscles lest he slide out of his chair and onto the floor, "I'll meet you in the Ministry lobby at about six?"

"Six?" Harry nodded, "I'll see you there."

"Good, now, Harry, get over here and read these. If we need to make changes, let me know."

"That's all there is to this interview?" Harry gulped as Severus' eyes narrowed. "Just, it was a lot longer to become an Auror and I'd ...” He trailed off, not wanting to bring up his hero status to one who'd help make it possible. 

Severus shifted over and held a quill out to Harry, "The cat with Hagrid earlier is currently going by his title with most of the staff – there are very few that can call me Severus."

"Title?" Harry tipped his head as he studied the Headmaster, "That cat was you? You heard everything I told Hagrid?"

The man nodded slowly, "I thought you might have issues interviewing with me, so asked Hagrid for his help. Now, are you coming over here to finish the forms?" 

Snape – no, Severus' voice was warm, an invitation in itself. Grinning, tension melting from his shoulders, Harry moved to the other side of the desk, squeezing in next to Severus, relishing the light brush of their shoulders. Anticipation and desire were still entwining within him, rendering him sensitive to the scent of Severus and the warmth of his robe, but it was manageable, not as desperate as it had been. 

There was a chance for him here now. If it worked, then Hogwarts would truly be his home and Severus… Severus would be his.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [LiveJournal](https://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3895189.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1824270.html), or [Dreamwidth](https://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/1152716.html).


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